


Some Nights

by manicmanner



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Bonding, F/M, Pre-Relationship, Vaguely Post 02.23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 19:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1659764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicmanner/pseuds/manicmanner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, you’re just pretty enough that you could probably convince some poor heiress to be your sugar mama.”</p>
<p>Felicity pitches a new daytime occupation to Oliver. They both enjoy some downtime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing I whipped up while procrastinating some editing.

Oliver was looking pretty ragged these days, and not in a scruffy, handsome way. Every couple of days he would show up, whether at her window or at her door like a normal person. Although, to be fair, who was she trying to kid? He’d never been normal.

Some nights, when he came through the door, he would bring something with him as an apology for the unexpected visit; a box of pizza from the place across town that she had never told him she’d liked, a bottle of her favorite wine, once an Amazon gift card. The nights he came through the window, he brought only the bruises on his body, the snags on his uniform, the shadows in his eyes. Those nights were tough. Felicity Smoak had never had to deal with this before. Usually, after a night’s work, the Arrow team went their own ways. 

Oliver didn’t have much of a home to return to anymore. To what she had seen, he was throwing himself into the Arrow persona. He hadn’t stopped long enough to catch a break. She had no idea where he was sleeping night to night, which made her wonder if he was at all. A small part of her seize up when she thought of that. He couldn’t keep going like this.

The only time she had seen him slow down was on the good nights, the door nights. She never forced anything, but pointedly announced her lack of plans after a long night’s work in hopes Oliver would take that as the signal it was.

It seemed to be working, because he was turning up more and more often.

Tonight was one of the door nights. He had brought her Chinese from a place down the street. It was delicious, the cuisine filling her small apartment with its smell. She mulled over how he was still able to afford it for a second before letting go of the thought. 

The two of them were bundled up on her couch, watching How I Met Your Mother. They usually stuck to comedies as Felicity caught Oliver up on the pop culture he had missed during his stay on the island. She figured that they both saw enough crime and violence on the daily. Apparently Oliver agreed.

Felicity snuck a glance at the man over her half-eaten eggroll. He was more relaxed than he’d been since the Slade situation had popped up, but he still turned to watch her in turn. That night he was doing his best impersonation of a raccoon, but his eyes lit up a bit underneath the dark circles, amused by the game they were playing. She wondered when he’d last slept. Which trudged up some other thoughts.

“How’s the job search going?”

Oliver blinked. Felicity smothered her smile with her food, shoving the eggroll in her mouth as she watched the vigilante run the question through his head again. When he didn’t say anything, she frowned.

“You are looking, aren’t you?”

His frown matched hers. “There have been some things left over from the Slade situation to take care of. I haven’t—“

“Bothered to start looking,” Felicity finished for him. She gave him a skeptical look. “You know, when I said that this was scarier than facing down Slade, who is a crazy person, I meant that as a joke.”

Oliver’s face stayed a careful neutral, but there were cracks in the mask. The space in between his eyebrows was fighting to not crinkle, his mouth was a frigid line. And he refused to look at her. The show was still playing in the background and Oliver was going to ignore her, it seemed. If she didn’t know better, she’d say that he was pouting.

That made her grin, and in a flash of bold inspiration, she reached across the space between them and tapped his cheek twice affectionately. He twitched in surprise but didn’t look away from the show’s antics. “You know, you’re just pretty enough that you could probably convince some poor heiress to be your sugar mama.”

Finally, his eyes slid to hers. “Oh?” That one syllable carried just enough amusement for Felicity to continue.

“Oh yeah. I mean, even if you’re not Oliver Queen, billionaire anymore, you’ve still got some things going for you. Playboy, club owner, all-around stud muffin—“

“Stud muffin?”

“Shh, I’m on a roll. And if all else fails, just pick a target and join her gym. Do some of your workouts shirtless around her. She’ll definitely drop a pretty penny for you then.”

As she was rambling, Oliver had scooted on the soft cushions to face her fully. A small grin had worked itself onto his face and Felicity noted that it made him look healthier. Happy. Less like the world’s punching bag and more like what he could have been, a carefree kid. Which made her grin right back at him.

“Do you think that would work?” he asked with the upmost seriousness.

“Absolutely, Mr. Queen,” she said, matching him. “I dare say it already has.”

There was a beat between them as they both realized what came out of her mouth. Felicity clamped down on the urge to slap a hand over her mouth. Personal experience dictated that never worked. Oliver tilted his head, considering her, hesitant.

They always seemed to bump into this wall. Usually, she would either try to push past it or run in the opposite direction, and it was still too soon after the talk on the island for her to try those options, so she tried something else.

This didn’t have to hurt so much. It didn’t hurt most of the time. Their relationship was whatever they wanted it to be, romance clichés be damned. She grinned before flopping on the couch to inch a little closer to him, just inside arm’s reach now. “If she’s got some money to spare after showering you with gifts, feel free to buy me a replacement computer system. Since you insist on not taking a break, and I’m sure you’re not planning on giving Diggle or me one either.”

There was another pause as Oliver tried to decipher a hidden meaning. “If you want a break, I under--”

“Oliver,” she cut him off, “we’re in this together. Sugar mamas and all.”

It was more straightforward than she usually managed, but it felt easier than when she had tried it before. Maybe because there wasn’t a particular goal in mind. She knew now (even if Oliver wouldn’t openly admit) that she had his undivided attention, and that gave her a sort of confidence. She knew she didn’t have to try, so she could do whatever. And whatever this was right now? That was enough.

And it seemed to be for him as well. He relaxed back into the couch and grabbed the wine bottle from the side table in front of them. Felicity held out her glass as he poured, and watched as he filled his own. Then he held his glass out to her and she clinked their glasses together.

“To heiresses.”

“To job-hunting,” Felicity chimed in.

Oliver let out a short, loud laugh that sent a pleasant tingle up Felicity’s spine. “Of course. But also,” he said, locking eyes with her, “to the here and now.”

“I’ll drink to that.” And they did.

Oliver stayed the whole night for once, looking better rested than he had in weeks. He left after a makeshift breakfast they had scrambled up, hopefully to actually become a productive member of normal society. But baby steps, Felicity thought. We’re getting there.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
